


Baby Aisle Humiliation - Into

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: ABDL, Blow Job, Covert Public Humiliation, Daddy Play, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Pants wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Tyler and Mark engage in some good, old fashioned humiliation play.





	Baby Aisle Humiliation - Into

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milkyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyuu/gifts).



> Edited by Angel!

Tyler groaned, leaning back into his chair, covering his face with both hands. 

He was tired.

Bone tired.

The kind of bone tired that usually only came about after a few weeks of working stupidly hard.

Which he had been.

Way too fucking hard. 

And now Mark was looking at him with that… look on his face, that shit eating grin that got on Tyler’s nerves when he was in the wrong kind of mood. 

Which was the kind of mood he was in right now.

“What?”

“You look like you want to snap me in half,” Mark said.

“I probably could, if I tried hard enough,” Tyler countered. 

“Why would you try, though? You never struck me as a “trying” person, more of a “doing” person.”

“Are you asking me to do you, specifically?”

There was an… edge to the banter that wasn’t usually there. 

A level of poking that Tyler didn’t usually engage in. 

He liked to think that he was a fairly mellow dude, what with one thing and another. 

He’d tried being a jerk in early life, he’d tried doing all the stuff that people expected of him, but he hadn’t really figured out what he wanted in life until Mark moved.

At which point he missed his old friend like a limb, had a lot of other realizations in regards to feelings (both his own, and Mark’s), and things had… moved along.

And now he was living his best life, or at least attempting to. 

Some of that involved… rather unorthodox measures, but who the fuck cared, really?

As long as he was happy.

Which he usually was.

Not so much right now. 

They’d been on tour for two fucking weeks, they finally had the house to themselves, and Mark had been filming all of yesterday, when they were _supposed_ to be doing other shit, but Mark had his fucking schedule to keep to, and....

“Tyler?”

Mark was looking at Tyler, and Tyler looked back at him. 

“What’s up?”

“You’re shaking,” Mark said, and his voice was gentle.

“Oh,” said Tyler, and he looked down at his hand, which was holding a spoon of oatmeal. “Huh.”

His hand was shaking so much that the oatmeal was coming off of the spoon.

“What were the plans for today?”

Mark’s tone was calm, almost mellow, and Tyler had to fight not to roll his eyes. 

He was always the one who kept track of the schedule these days. 

It could be… frustrating. 

Or maybe everything was frustrating him. 

“You were going to do a few easy games,” Tyler said, “since you haven’t done anything really silly lately.”

“RIght,” said Mark. “How about… how about we go grocery shopping?”

Tyler blinked at Mark, trying to wrap his head around what Mark had said.

“I thought you hated going grocery shopping.”

“I mean,” said Mark, “I won’t lie, it’s not one of my favorite things to do. But,” he added, “I have… I have an idea for a scene.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow.

“A scene?”

“A scene,” Mark said, and now he was grinning.

Tyler grinned back in spite of himself. 

His bad mood was already starting to evaporate.

Mark usually had good ideas for scenes. 

“So what kind of scene?”

“Probably the kind of scene that you’d like,” said Mark.

And then he told Tyler about it.

And Tyler flushed. 

“Right,” Tyler said. “Um.”

“You wanna do it?”

“... sure,” said Tyler, because what was he going to lose? “Unless this is gonna interfere with the schedule?”

“Nah,” said Mark. “We were planning to make an easy day of it anyway. Do you think you can be a good boy and keep out of my way when I’m busy?”

Tyler flushed, but he nodded, keeping his eyes on his oatmeal. 

“So we’re good,” said Mark, and he grinned, getting up and going to the sink.

He put a full glass of water in front of Tyler, and Tyler paused, looking down at the glass, then up at Mark. 

“Drink up,” Mark said, his tone neutral.

Tyler took a gulp, because… well, what else was he going to do?

He swallowed the water, and it practically sloshed when it hit his stomach.

He was blushing, he realized.

Huh.

When had that happened?

* * *

“Do you need to be protected before we go to the grocery store?”

It was about an hour later, and Tyler was sliding his sandals on.

“Hm?”

Tyler raised an eyebrow.

He had drunk four more glasses of water, so full that the sloshing in his stomach was practically audible. 

“Protection,” Mark said again.

“Protection. What, like a condom?”

“Like a diaper,” Mark said, and he seemed to relish the way that Tyler flushed at the “d” word. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tyler said, his voice thick. 

“No?”

“No idea,” said Tyler firmly.

“So you’re not just some little baby boy that I need to keep in diapers, to keep from having to do extra laundry?”

“I’m really not,” Tyler said. “I’m taller than you are.”

“I didn’t say short boy,” Mark said, “I said Little boy.”

Tyler could practically hear the capital “l” in that sentence.

“Oh,” said Tyler. “Well, uh, you don’t have to worry about that either.”

“I don’t, huh?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Mark, and he was putting his own shoes on. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

* * *

“I got the idea for this scene from your fetish list, you know,” said Mark, as Tyler shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

He already needed to pee. 

Damned if he was going to let Mark know just yet.

“Yeah?”

The scene seemed to be at least partially paused, since they were still en route. 

Tyler’s stomach was full of anticipation, of nerves.

“Yeah. You mentioned you were into - “

“Yes, yes,” Tyler said, before Mark could finish the phrase.

Tyler would have possibly died, right there in the car, if Mark had actually said the whole sentence.

… oh god, now Tyler was thinking about it. 

He didn’t need to pee anymore.

Because he had a boner.

Oh, joy.

* * *

They arrived at the grocery store, and by that point, Tyler was almost actively squirming. 

He was hard, but he had to pee.

It was… unpleasant, but he relished it.

He’d always had a thing for this, for this… weirdness. 

Holding, desperation. 

They weren’t usually quite so… public about it, but who was going to be able to tell?

He could hold his bladder for ages. 

He’d be fine.

“So,” said Mark, as the two of them made their way into the store, “we only need a few things.”

“What do we need?”

“Well,” said Mark, and he leaned up, so that he was speaking directly into Tyler’s ear, “you said that you don’t need any of the baby stuff, since you’re not a baby. But we might have a baby over, so we should be prepared, hm?”

Tyler flushed so hard that he went faintly dizzy.

Oh _god_. 

“Oh,” he said thickly.

“Also, we’re out of canned tomatoes,” Mark added, in a normal tone of voice.

“How are we out of canned tomatoes? Didn’t we just buy a bunch of them?”

“We did, but then you made spaghetti sauce, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” said Tyler.

Everything that they had done before the tour all felt like it was a million years ago. 

It would all eventually settle back into memory, but for now, life was Before the Tour and After the Tour. 

“So let’s get the tomatoes first,” said Mark.

“Do you want me to get the, uh… the other stuff while you do that?”

“You mean the baby stuff?” 

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and Mark’s smirk got bigger

Jerk.

“Yeah. That.”

“Nah, I’ll get that,” said Mark. “Since you obviously don’t know anything about this baby.”

Tyler was going to kill Mark.

In his sleep.

If only the boner would go down.

At least it wasn’t super noticeable - unless someone was looking for it, and who goes around looking at random people’s crotches? 

“So why don’t I just get the tomatoes, and you get that stuff.”

“The baby stuff?”

“Right.”

“Because it’ll take longer. We might as well just do it together,” said Mark, and he grabbed a shopping basket, handing it to Tyler. “You can be the sherpa.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tyler said, and he rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t know anything about this baby?”

“Positive,” Tyler said. 

He licked his lips, and tried not to think about the way his lower belly was throbbing. 

He had to pee. 

He _really_ had to pee.

* * *

Mark spent ten minutes choosing tomatoes, until Tyler wanted to pull his hair out.

“Why is this so important?” 

Tyler was actually groaning.

“Would you rather be looking at all the baby things? Is that why you’re so impatient?”

Tyler cleared his throat.

“That’s, uh, that’s not what I meant.”

“No? What did you mean?”

“I… I meant that I don’t want to just stand around,” Tyler said. 

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I need to _pee_ , Mark,” Tyler hissed.

“I asked if you had to go before we left the house,” Mark scolded. “Did you just forget to go?”

… had Mark?

Did it matter?

But now there were two cans of tomatoes in the basket, and they were walking slowly - ever so slowly - to the baby aisle. 

Oh _god_.

“Now,” said Mark, just quiet enough for Tyler to have to strain to hear, “what is it that we need?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Tyler said, and he had a thousand yard stare, right in front of him.

He was looking at diapers.

He’d never fit into any of these diapers, obviously, but sometimes people used actual baby diapers for “stuffers” - putting a balled up one inside of an adult diaper added to the capacity of the adult diaper, and made it last longer.

He’d learned that fact online, years ago, when he was still ashamed about the fetish, and would jerk off guiltily in forums full of people who didn’t always know how to spell, but made up for it with sheer enthusiasm. 

And then Mark was leaning over, picking up a container of formula, and Tyler flushed harder.

“Are you… are you going to even need that?”

Mark dropped the formula into the basket.

“Hmm?”

Mark raised an eyebrow.

“That. The… the baby isn’t that young,” Tyler said.

“I thought you didn’t know anything about the baby,” said Mark, and his smirk was getting bigger.

“I mean -”

There was no winning this one, was there?

Tyler just stood there, clenching his jaw.

“It might be a very small baby,” said Mark. “It might be so little it can’t even use its hands, or have anything but formula.”

The aisle was completely empty, thank god.

Mark wouldn’t have been talking about this otherwise.

“Now, let’s see,” said Mark, and he was looking at the baby wipes.

He picked a pack up from the shelf, and Tyler opened his mouth to say something.

“Um,” Tyler said.

“Hmm?”

Mark was _exuding_ smugness, the bastard.

“I don’t think… I don’t think the baby would like those,” Tyler said.

Mark knew that Tyler hated those wipes - they smelled strongly, and tended to give Tyler headaches.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this baby,” said Mark. 

Tyler flushed. 

“How about you pick the wipes, then? For the baby, when he needs to be changed.”

Mark was talking quietly - Tyler had to lean closer, to hear it all. 

Oh geeze. 

Tyler grabbed his favorite brand of wipes off of the shelf, putting them in the basket.

“We need… a bottle for the baby,” Mark said, as if he was reading off of a mental list. “You gonna get that, too?”

“Why would I get that?”

“You seem to know the baby better than I do,” Mark said, his tone practically beatific. “So you’d know what he likes.”

In. 

His.

Sleep.

But Tyler crouched down to pick up a bottle at random - it was printed with little elephants.

“Binky, too,” chirped Mark, and Tyler reached over grabbing a pacifier with a little puppy on it, which had its own pacifier in its mouth.

Oh god.

They both got dropped into the basket.

“Anything else?”

“Powder,’ said Mark.

He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He had a boner.

Jerk.

Tyler picked up a bottle of powder, dropped it in.

“Anything else?”

“If the baby isn’t too small, he’d probably need some baby food, wouldn’t he?”

“If a baby can eat baby food, can’t we just give it people food?”

“Are you saying that babies aren’t people?” 

“Well, no, I’m not saying that,” Tyler said. “You know what I mean.”

“You don’t think babies are people,” Mark said, as he plucked jars off of the shelf and dropped them into the basket. 

They clinked, faintly.

Tyler eyed them.

Which was worse - baby food or formula?

Each were equally terrible, when it came down to it.

Tyler assumed his face was as red as it could get, except that all the blood that wasn’t in his face seemed to be in his cock, as it added another bout of throbbing.

He was aroused.

He was aroused, he needed to pee, he was so embarrassed he wanted to die…. 

Oh god.

And nobody else knew what was going on. 

Nobody would ever be able to tell what was going on, unless they knew the very intimate details of what was going on - as far as anyone passing by knew, these were just two guys who had a friend with a baby coming over. Or maybe they were babysitting.

Regardless.

It was all okay.

Except for the part where he was so horny that he was going to die, and he was going to die from his bladder exploding, and he was possibly going to die from the embarrassment of all of this.

Three different causes of death.

That was impressive.

“Tyler?”

Mark snapped Tyler out of his reverie.

“Mm?”

“You alright, bud?”

Mark was using the Daddy voice.

Oh god.

“I’m fine,” Tyler said, his voice thick. “Never better.”

“Right,” said Mark. “So you good?”

“I’m good.”

“We should pay.”

“Right,” said Tyler. 

* * *

They paid.

They even did the self check out, and Mark snagged a large bottle of water as they waited in line, handing it to Tyler. 

“Right,” said Mark, as they were walking back to the car in the empty parking lot. “So.”

“So,” Tyler said. 

“I want you to piss yourself when we get back to the house. But not before. If you piss yourself in the car, you have to pay for the car getting cleaned up.”

“Right,” said Tyler. 

“Unless you’ll piss yourself right here,” Mark added. “We’ve got towels, you can sit in those on the way home.”

They’d parked in a corner - nobody was around, or really paying attention to them.

“What, like… here-here?”

“Here-here,” said Mark. 

They had stopped in front of the car, and Mark took the grocery bag.

Tyler swallowed thickly, his throat clicking.

“If you don’t pee your pants here,” Mark added, “you have to drink that bottle of water on the way home, and you have to finish it.”

“Finish it… before we get home?”

“Right,” said Mark. 

“Oh,” said Tyler.

He was barely thinking - he just… let go.

His boner had gone down a bit, as they made their way back to their car, and now he was soft enough to piss. 

Which he was doing.

He was wearing basketball shorts, and theoretically he could have just stuck his cock out from the leg of his boxers, under the leg of the shorts, aimed, done this neatly. 

But he didn’t.

He stood there, right by the car, and he pissed his pants, as it pattered down around his feet, to darken the blacktop, leaving a wet stain on the front of Tyler’s shorts, hot wetness dripping down his leg.

“Wow,” Mark said, and he sounded impressed. “I always forget how much you can piss in one go.”

Tyler was covering his face with both hands, his whole face on fire.

His stream had tapered off, once he’d seen the look on Mark’s face.

He was still turned on.

Oh god.

“I guess we do have a baby, huh?”

Mark’s tone was teasing, almost gentle. “Stay put, baby boy. Can you do that for Daddy?”

Tyler, his face still covered, nodded.

* * * 

Nobody could see them, in this corner by the trees, and so nobody saw Mark put the towel on the seat, and then Tyler was sitting on the seat, acutely aware of the piss that was drying on his boxers, on his inner thighs, down his legs.

It chafed.

And Mark’s eyes were dark, and he kept licking his lips. 

Mark practically sped home, and he didn’t say anything when they pulled in, just grabbed Tyler by the arm and towed him inside.

* * *

The door wasn’t even fully closed when Mark pulled Tyler closer to him, kissing Tyler like he was dying.

“Wet baby,” Mark said, right up against Tyler’s lips, and Tyler shuddered, moanned, pulling Mark closer to him.

And then Mark’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down, and the tiles were cold against his bare knees, a nice contrast from the warm piss.

Mark’s cock was in his face - something must have happened in the meantime, there must have been in between steps, because things didn’t just happen, but now he was being guided to Mark’s cock, and Tyler was sucking it, the head in his mouth, then the shaft going deeper as he sucked.

Mark was moaning, his fingers in Tyler’s hair. 

“You wet little baby,” Mark mumbled. “Dirty baby. You made such a mess. What if someone had s-s-seen that? Seen my big dumb baby pissing himself?”

Tyler moaned, and he took Mark’s cock down his throat, bobbing his head and sucking.

“You made me look like a bad Daddy, baby, forgetting to put a little baby like you in a nic, thick diaper.”

Tyler’s nose was pressed up against the flatness of Mark’s stomach, the sparse hair ticklish against his nose, and he sucked harder, drool going down his chin, still bobbing his head. 

“Fuck, Ty,” Mark mumbled, and he was fucking Tyler’s mouth, Tyler’s throat.

Tyler was flying, in some kind of headspace, and his toes were curling, sticky against his sandals, and Mark was moaning harder, beginning to shift his hips.

He lost track of time, lost track of just about everything, just let it float over his head, filling him up like water in a glass, and he savored it.

His head was full of Mark’s salty, musky scent, of the ammonia of his own piss, the musk of his own arousal, the taste of Mark’s cock on his tongue.

And he gagged, because Mark was cumming down his throat, down into his stomach, and he swallowed it thickly, licking his lips, his chin shiny with drool, his lips swollen. 

“There’s Daddy’s dirty little cocksucker,” Mark cooed, and now he was talking to Tyler like Tyler actually _was_ a baby, and that was enough to make Tyler moan.

Tyler’s hands left Mark’s hips, went down between his own legs, only for Mark to grab his wrists, squeezing them.

“None of that,” Mark said sharply. “You’ve shown Daddy that you can’t be trusted to take care of that, so Daddy gets to decide what to do with it.”

Tyler whined.

“Let’s get you a nice bath,” said Mark, in a solicitous tone of voice. “A nice bath, a nice fluffy diaper….”

Tyler flushed. 

“Good boy.”

* * * 

Tyler lay on the bed, as Mark wiped him clean with the wipes that Tyler had chosen himself, put the powder on. 

“Daddy’s sweet little baby is gonna get some nice yummy formula later,” said Mark, as he tickled Tyler’s belly.

Tyler chuckled, squirming, somewhere between headspace and just so humiliated that he couldn’t think in a straight line. 

He was sucking on the pacifier that he had chosen, with the little puppy.

He would have ordinarily been sucking on his thumb, but his hands were in the thick mittens, and he had no use of his thumb. 

His cock was still hard, as Mark powdered him down, then carefully taped him into the diaper, and the soft, cushy diaper didn’t do anything but tease him.

He whined.

“And to think,” Mark added, “I’d never even heard of baby aisle humiliation until I saw it on your list!”

Tyler snorted.

“Did I do a good job?”

Tyler attempted to give a thumbs up, which made Mark laugh, as he taped the diaper up. 

“Now,” he told Tyler, leaning forward, so that his chin was on Tyler’s chest and his stomach was pressed against Tyler’s crotch, “if you’re a good boy and stay dry and don’t cum before I come to check on you, I’ll let you have your hands back. How does that sound?”

Tyler nodded, still sucking his binky.

“Good boy,” said Mark, and he kissed Tyler on the tip of his nose, then the shield of the pacifier. “I’m gonna go do a few videos. Will you take a nice nap while I do that?”

Another nod.

“Good boy.”

Mark stood up, and he patted Tyler’s padded crotch. 

He left the room whistling, the door still open. 

Tyler looked over his shoulder, and then he rolled onto his stomach, driving his hips forward desperately, his oversensitive cock rubbing against the softness of the bed, making it so much torture.

Still, inch by inch, he was going to cum.

He just had to hurry it up, or else Mark would come back before he was finished.

And to think, all of this fun, just from checking the little box marked “into.””

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? 
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


End file.
